Welcome to the Entralink
by Funeral.Bell
Summary: It is a beautiful paradise, N could admit, where he could escape from the rest of the world that remains unforgiving for his deeds. But even with his pokémon companions he cannot deny the empty feeling residing within him. —faint Isshushipping


**A/N**: TIME TO APPEASE THE MASSES. Dem poll results on my page jesus. Updates are irregular but considering it's me that's normal! 8D -shot- Anyway. I don't even know how I feel about making an isshushipping fic at this point – don't get me wrong, I really do like it but I really would hate to butcher N's character. I haven't played the games in ages, the manga updates are unreliable (which is why I resorted to buying it considering the websites skip several chapters entirely) and the show _still_ hasn't introduced N. Enough rambling. Oh, wait, one more thing: I actually have a pet peeve when people write a character doing an action but says "-inset nickname here- laughs." No, only in speech should it be present, not in the description. In the description it should be the formal name unless it's in someone's P.O.V. But N is an exception, so much awkwardness when it's "Natural laughs." Lul.  
**Extra/Important(?) notes**: A very long time ago I watched the episode of Ash & Co. helping an archeops. In the Japanese dub I believe Professor Fennel explained that there were more archeops because there was a world untouched and undisturbed by time. If I recall correctly. But I always believed it was the Entralink she was talking about. Forget about the ladies and the old guy that are there originally to help you (the player) navigate the area, and I believe only the Hero chosen by either Reshiram or Zekrom are ever permitted to enter. And in my opinion N would be also, despite Plasma and everything he had honest intentions. Even if his room is creepy as shit – oh wait, that's completely unrelated.  
**Warnings**: Possible (likely…) chance of OOC-ness? Bell's general view on the Entralink (like hell that deserves a warning of its own.) Mistakes that I might have overlooked by mistake :x  
**Recommended music?**: Search on youtube "Mt. Coronet Dub-Step" or "Black and White Entralink Remix" by GlitchxCity.  
**Disclaimer**: For the love of all things that are holy I will never own like ohmygod this saddens me every time I have to type this. This includes Attack Attack!'s "Catfish soup" like geez. D;

* * *

**Welcome to the**

_E_

_n_

_t_

_r_

_a_

_l_

_i_

_n_

_k_

* * *

_Just think about this now,  
as we come to an end.  
The decisions you have,  
made will come back to haunt you.  
_

* * *

The archeops observes him expectantly.

N blinks once, twice, and finally a third time, offering the archeops a fleeting smile – they have not left his side while he remains motionless on the earthy soft topsoil. He disregards the traces of dirt in his untamed hair, deep beneath his fingers—throughout the day he would erratically recall the pestering memories, out of reflex he would plunge his fingers in the soil, clenching tightly until specks of red were present beneath the nail—on his once spotless white shirt littered with grass stains and cringing wrinkles, his pants in no better condition. And his complexion,

Arecus, the more filth the better.

People hiss uttering his name, he never made the attempt to halt Ghetsis'—he loosens his folded hands resting on his stomach, mildly suppressing the urge to run his fingers in the soil again—proceedings within each passing town. He would have never thought, _never imagined, _his friends enjoyed the company of their trainers, that he made the mistake not to stop those that dug their hand into their pocket to draw a pokéball out into the open. Many pokéballs showed evident signs of use: the deep imbedded scratch marks, the white belly of the apparatus browning from its years of use, the black strip marred with fingerprints. Others were very new pokéballs, amateur at best, with very little scratches,

but what did it matter?

Regardless of the years, weeks, days, or hours—there was a bond. A bond between trainer and pokémon, between friends.

And Ghetsis praised it. And he did nothing to stop the flowing tears of the trainer releasing their pokémon from its ball, waving goodbye before running, running from the anguished face of the pokémon abandoned,_ running_ from a friendship that could have lasted a lifetime.

His name ("I dare that Harmonia boy return to this city!" or "Officer Jenny, why don't we have him arrested? One Harmonia is rotting in prison, the other should be too!" or even "Are you listening, child? If you ever see this young man from the newspaper, Natural Harmonia Gropius, report him _immediately_. He has done some very…_bad_ things that cannot be left unpunished. Understand?") became the very essence of malice in Unova. He could only find refuge in secluded areas, the far outskirts of towns, the deep mazes of forests,

the Entralink.

N felt a wave of relief the brown smudges on his face hides the familiarity of his father, made him feel as if he was not the individual the region resents, the individual the region _loathes_. He closes his green eyes briefly to exhale sharply. At least in the Entralink he was accepted, the pokémon often communicates with him and urges him occasionally to rise from the soil to play in the luscious flower fields until the cascading night falls upon the remote area. From the bushes the herdier will curl up against his thin, lanky frame, a tranquill will nestle itself on his shoulder, a leavanny will brush away his shaggy fringes from his slumbering face and sing a lullaby until he fell asleep, then a deerling will modestly offer its back to act as N's pillow.

He reopens his eyes, laughing quietly the archeops stop eating completely to fixate their focus on him – he shakes his head, assuring the pokémon there was nothing wrong, that he was merely lost deep within his thoughts. Yes, nothing wrong at all…

N turns to his side, hiding his frown from his friends. Ever since he experienced the companionship of a human he longed to have the desire again, for he knows at least one person in this world accepts him,

and he knows he would never see him again.

The Entralink resides high above the clouds, the ledge of the floating island—could he call it that, he wonders momentarily—presents a frightening elevation level. As a child he read books that his father left in his room to pass the time, one especially included the rumors of the beautiful paradise: the untainted and scenic land of the Entralink. It sounded like a mere fairytale. He assumed several weeks ago—or has it been months?—he is on the rumored land, he is still within the Unova region, he just wasn't entirely sure where exactly in Unova.

Could the Entralink truly be the center of the region that has been left undiscovered? Was it an illusion he was high in the clouds rather than in a ground-level ordinary forest-like land? N shook his head again: he is safe, Reshiram left him here for a reason, and he would not question the judgment of the elegant white dragon likely gracing the horizon in its flight.

Although shaky on his feet, N rises, scanning the area to spot the water well fairly off in the distance. Dare he drink another sip? The water is as pure as it could be, however he would find himself gazing at his reflection, his eyebrows would knit together as he could recall the collapse of his castle in the innocently clear water. He could see his father shouting at him, his ears echoing Ghetsis' hurtful words _over and over again._

Then he would see Black defending him, defending him after all the trouble he has caused on the hot-headed trainer, the region, and nearly the whole world if he had not lost the battle.

N dislikes the reminder of his former self residing in his plaguing memories.

He dislikes any memories involving Black.

Clenching his hands, N decides to accompany his childhood playmate, Zorua, for a walk through the flower glade. He declines the offers of an unfezant to fly through the skies, plays a game of chase with a mischievous purrloin, then finally collapses beneath the tree where the archeops munch on their berry dinner. He thanks the dual rock-bird types for an oran berry they offer him, casually he stares blankly into the sky, between the gaps of consciousness he munches on the oran berry.

N quirks his head, his eyes narrowing in an attempt to make out the faint black dot in the distance amongst the puffy white clouds. To relinquish his curiosity he dusts off his pants with his free hand, stands up, and treks near the ledge of the Entralink, cautious not to take another step lest he falls into the shrouded clouds that obscure the sight of the land—if there was any land—underneath. The green-haired teen distractingly munches on the oran berry and shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

The black dot is peculiar, he admits, and is rapidly approaching. A new pokémon, a new friend, is going to reside on the spotted land of the Entralink? Splendid! Feeling a spurge of enthusiasm, N watches in anticipation, rehearsing in his head several different greetings, debating which scenario to choose to introduce his new friend to his companions on the Entralink, to describe the prominent features of this beautiful paradise—

N's fingers on the oran berry loosens, unaware the berry tumbles off the ledge and into the clouds. He steps back, eyes widening in disbelief.

The almighty Zekrom is gracing N with its presence? It has to be!

There could be no reason otherwise…

"N!" bellows a familiar voice laced with excitement. "N! I finally found you!"

Realization steadily dawns upon N, and oh dear him why can he not help himself from having his lips twitching upwards? Why could he not stop himself from having the wet tears brim his eyes?

Black has everything: the fame of defeating Plasma, the strength to beat Alder easily, a family—N is certain of this—that loves him dearly, respect amongst the gym leaders.

And human friendship. But now Black…

In his impatience—oh how Black remains unchanged!—Black scales the back of Zekrom's head, upon reaching the crest of the dragon his hands circle around his mouth to shout louder, "You idiot! You stupid, _stupid _idiot! I've been looking everywhere for you!" his hands fall back to his side, then he allows a moment of silence to engulf Zekrom's incoming decent.

Of course Black was never one for waiting; the brunet fumbles with his apology when he walks to the end of Zekrom's snout, preparing his legs by crouching down slightly.

And jumps.

The green eyes widen considerably, his bottom lip quivering trying to decipher the trainer's judgment to fall precariously from a very tall, very large legendary pokémon without any regard for his own safety. A strange compulsion lead N to open his arms, fretting on his own two feet to calculate where in Arceus' name the trainer would plummet.

He calls it a miracle he caught the laughing trainer in his arms unscathed, a bigger miracle he lands on his back without breaking his fragile spine.

Nestling in the crook of N's neck, Black says, "That was jerkish move, y'know, leaving without telling me where!"

N inhales Black's scent: a combined smell of grass and berry spice. The words remain lodged in his throat, forming a lump, but he finds himself laughing wholeheartedly. "Black…" he says breathlessly, arms lowering to encircle the brunet's waist affectionately.

The archeops take their ascension.

* * *

_and as the story ends and  
you look to the sky,  
this couldn't have happened by chance._

_And here's your escape as  
he calls out your name,  
you fall to your knees  
and answer his call.  
_

* * *

**A/N**: ...;; My first isshushipping attempt. Or somewhat isshushipping-related. And N's character.

YES. YESS. YESSS. OLD GYM LEADERS/CHAMPIONS IN BW2. N IS THERE. Now I'm no longer disappointed. I r pleased.


End file.
